


sacred sword, spiky shield

by ryuuseirune



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Crushes, Crying, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Graphic Description, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Requited Love, Vomiting, a lot of it, half is fluff half is tears, leon/raihan is not endgame, trainshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23254216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuuseirune/pseuds/ryuuseirune
Summary: Hop watches Leon's life fade, drained by the flowers blooming in his lungs. No matter what Hop says, Leon refuses to undergo surgery or confess to Raihan. After Leon's death, Victor gets the same disease, and for the first time since his teenage years, Hop doesn't know what to do.
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan, Hop/Masaru | Victor
Comments: 22
Kudos: 181





	sacred sword, spiky shield

**Author's Note:**

> coronavirus except it's hanahaki

_ Well, this is a predicament, _ Hop thinks to himself. 

All Hop wanted was a quick rinse to start off his day, but with the bathroom occupied, he can’t exactly strip and step into the shower. Leaned over their shared bathroom’s single toilet, Leon looks like he has a terrible hangover. Hop’s half-dressed and barely conscious, but even he can tell that this isn’t a normal post-drunk sickness. Pale, short of breath, and disheveled, his older brother is a mess.

“Hop? Is that you?” Leon croaks. It doesn’t sound like him at all. The voice is heavily worn and raspy, like a chain smoker straight out of the seventh circle of hell.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Hop says unsurely. “Do you… uh, need some water?”

“Yes, sure, that would be great!” Leon says, but it’s more of a screech. 

Hop fetches a glass from the kitchen. He’s halfway up the stairs when he hears a loud flushing noise. Leon must be done vomiting. When he gets to the bathroom and water still spins, however, he’s a little more than concerned.

“Lee, did you vomit that much? Are you okay?” he groans, handing his brother the cup of water. Leon panics when Hop grabs a plunger, stepping between Hop and the toilet.

“It’s nothing, I’ll fix it,” Leon says. Clearly it isn’t just  _ nothing, _ because Leon’s eyes are darting around the bathroom like a coked-up Yamper and his hands are shaking like a Snorunt. Unsurprisingly, in his brother’s weakened state, Hop pushes past him easily. He’s able to shove the plunger in, using the suction to give the vomit a good yank.

Gladiolus flowers burst up from the pipes.

White, purple, and yellow petals are mixed in amongst the predominantly red blooms. Hop recognizes these flowers because they’re the ones sitting on the windowsill of Leon’s room.  _ They’re like swords, _ Leon said with a grin.  _ Rai gave them to me. Aren’t they so cool? _ Hop scrunches up his nose in thought. Even in his perpetual drunkenness, Leon wouldn’t eat a heartfelt present from  _ Raihan _ of all people (unless it was food, of course, but flowers are  _ not _ for eating). His second and much worse conclusion is that Leon is sick. But he’s never heard of people just  _ coughing up flowers. _ Sure, anything is possible in the world of Pokemon, but this? This is just completely far-fetched.

“What… are these,” Hop says, gesturing at the perennials in blood-stained water. “I mean, I know they’re gladiolus, but what…?”

Leon gives him a weak smile.

“Well, it was only a matter of time before you found out.”

Hop freezes.

“You’re okay, right?” Hop asks, grasping Leon’s cold and trembling hands. “Lee? What does this mean?”

“I have Hanahaki,” Leon says. When there’s no sign of understanding in Hop’s eyes, he continues, “There are flowers growing in my lungs.”

And that’s when Hop learns his time with Leon is running out.

* * *

“Do you think Lee will be okay?” Hop asks.

Victor turns to him, cheeks stuffed with hurricane popcorn. Hop’s heart flutters in his chest. Everything about Victor is just so  _ endearing;  _ he’s just so  _ adorable _ it makes Hop want to drizzle kisses all over his cheeks and hold him tight. The brunette chews slowly, holding up a finger before swallowing.

“I mean, all he has to do is get the flowers removed somehow, right?” Victor replies cautiously. “I don’t know what that entails, but he might need surgery. It could be dangerous.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Hop sighs, wringing out his hands nervously. Victor closes the distance between them on the gigantic couch, nudging their hips together.

“I get why you’re concerned,” Victor says, rubbing Hop’s back. The touch is nervous, but not fleeting. Hop’s feelings rush to the spot of contact, unstoppable in their pursuit of Victor’s soft hands. A younger Hop would have melted into the touch, he reminisces, but today’s Hop is jaded and coated in impenetrable platinum plates. Hesitantly, Victor pulls him into an awkward side-hug. It’s definitely an attempt to comfort him, and it works. Hop’s muscles relax as Victor rests his forehead on Hop’s shoulder.

Beneath his breath, he hears Victor mumble something. Rather, he feels the movement of Victor’s lips through his shirt.

“What?” Hop asks. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“Do you know the name of the condition?” Victor repeats.

“Hanahaki,” he says.

“Did you look it up?” Victor asks.

Hop sneaks a glance at his crush’s face and regrets it instantly. Seeing Victor’s face contort in concern is enough to make his heart twinge in pain.

“I didn’t,” he admits. “I’ve been busy with work recently. Sonia’s really been picking up a lot of new research.”

“Why don’t we search for it together?” Victor suggests, calling over his Rotom. 

The excited creature buzzes before pulling up a web search. Victor’s long, elegant fingers waltz across the screen. Victor’s movements tantalize him, even in this dire moment when they shouldn’t. Hop should focus on Leon’s health, and knowing better, he feels guilt well up inside his gut. His eyes seal shut, closing off the source of his wonder.

For a few seconds, there’s nothing but silence.

“Hop,” Victor squeaks. His voice is pained and filled with anxiety, distracting Hop from his meditation.

“What is it? Is it bad?” Hop asks, eyes fluttering open. In an instant, Rotom whirls away, hiding the screen from him. Victor looks at Hop with a frantic concern, batting his arm away from the levitating device. Undeterred, Hop leans over Victor’s shoulder and grasps his phone. Lithe and bony, Victor can hardly wrestle Rotom away from Hop. 

The man underneath him is flushed red and panicked. If Hop hadn’t known better, he’d think Victor was smitten with him, sitting there and panting with wide, innocent eyes. He forgets who he is for a second - forgets their friendship, forgets that Victor’s the champion, forgets that he’s a nobody working to get his degree a few years too late. 

“Hop?” Victor squeaks.

It’s enough to snap him back to reality.  _ Right, Hanahaki, _ Hop reminds himself, pulling back with Victor’s Rotom in his hands. He turns the screen toward him, and -

“What?” he sputters, scrolling through the search results.

_ Caused by unrequited love. Removable by surgery or through reciprocated feelings. If left untreated, Hanahaki will cause suffocation and eventual death. _

Hop wants to scream when he sees the word “death,” but Leon’s not a  _ fool. _ If he’s rejected, Leon would get the surgery regardless of the complications. Leon is not only the new chairman, but he’s  _ Lee, _ Hop’s older brother and one of his closest friends. Undefeated for who-knows-how-long. Leon wouldn’t throw away his life like that.

_ Right? _

“What does this mean, Victor?” a voice asks. He almost wonders who else is in the room, but through a quick deduction, he realizes that it’s  _ his own question. _

“Leon likes someone,” Victor says, coaxing him into the idea. “Do you have any idea who he may like?”

There’s only one person.

That boorish, clueless, insensitive fool, who only ever thinks of himself. Attracting millions with an addictive smile that everyone loves and the mischievous twinkle in his bright blue eyes. The sorry-sap that remembers Leon’s birthday every year, bringing him –

Gladiolus flowers.

_ Raihan. _

Hop buries his head in his hands and lets out a loud, exasperated groan.

“Of course I know who he likes,” he mutters through his palms. “I think you know, too.”

“It’s not like he’s hiding it,” Victor offers.

He’s right, but it doesn’t make Leon’s situation any less… concerning, for lack of a better term. Not only is Raihan blinder than a Zubat when it comes to emotions, but Leon? Confess to Raihan? No way in hell would his brother ever do such a thing – he’s a nervous wreck, constantly fretting over Raihan’s affections. 

“Well, it’s fine,” Hop says nonchalantly. “I’m sure he’ll just get it removed. No big deal, right?”

“You didn’t read the surgical complications, did you?”

“I didn’t,” he says. “Don’t tell me it’s bad.”

Victor’s normally bright face falls into a solemn frown.

_ Oh no. _

“His memories of Raihan would disappear,” Victor says quietly.

Hop nearly knocks their bowl of popcorn onto the floor. Victor huffs and moves it to the side before adjusting the blanket on them. Eternatus growls at their feet, annoyed at the loss of warmth. Victor ignores her complaints and waits for Hop to respond.

“Lee will confess eventually,” Hop says eventually. 

Hop can’t be sure if he’s telling the truth, but he hopes it’ll happen. Leon’s happiness is the most important thing – and Leon’s life isn’t something he’d throw away for any person. Victor looks relieved for a second, patting Hop on the back.

“I hope they work things out,” Victor says. “If things get bad - I’m here for you.”

“I think Lee might need it more than I do, but thanks,” Hop grins. “So, are we watching  _ The Princess Bride _ or what?”

“Definitely,” Victor grins. “You know I’m a sucker for a happy ending.”

Hop can’t help but pray that Leon and Raihan’s ending will be happy, too.

* * *

Raihan’s midway through making out with some unwitting chick when his brother starts choking. 

It could’ve been that fruity alcoholic drink going down the wrong pipe or the second-hand smoke that his brother is so sensitive to, but it doesn’t take much for Hop to deduce that Leon is not okay when Leon excuses himself to use the washroom. Raihan, seemingly unconcerned, continues his pursuit of the girl. Her purple hair, set in a low ponytail, sways seductively at her hips like a pendulum. Any hormonal teenager would fall over her in an instant, and despite being well into his twenties, Raihan grins at her like a wolf looking at its next meal.

_ Disgusting. _

He can’t even begin to fathom how Leon’s fallen for this bumbling dragon tamer, but that’s how things go when you catch feelings. Hop can’t blame him completely, after all – he knows what it’s like to be smitten for a childhood friend against his will.

When Leon doesn’t return for a few minutes, even Raihan seems concerned. Hop reluctantly pulls away from his conversation with Victor, getting up to check on his older brother. The bathroom is surprisingly empty, aside from the sounds of Leon heaving up foliage. It’s unpleasant, especially since the sound of gagging triggers something inside of him that nearly makes him empty out his stomach’s contents.

He swallows the feeling and pounds on the stall door.

“Lee? Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?”

His older brother retches in response, pouring his lungs into the water with a splash. He can hear some shuffling in the enclosed space before the lock unlatches and Leon opens the door. There are tears streaming down his face, Hop notes, picking a blood-covered petal off Leon’s shirt.

“I heard your condition is caused by –”

Leon’s hand slaps over Hop’s mouth, shushing him with what little energy he has left.

“Don’t tell Rai, please,” he wheezes. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

Hop peels Leon’s hand away from his mouth with ease.

“I promise I won’t,” he says, checking for any other petals stuck to Leon’s clothes. He’s gotten used to this routine. Even though he’s the younger brother, it feels like Hop is the one taking care of Leon! It’s unfair, really – Hop hardly had the chance to be babied by Leon at all, especially since he was the champion, and now he’s the one making sure Leon’s not questioned by the media?

Remorse washes through him when he remembers that  _ Leon is sick, of course you should be taking care of him. _ First things first, no matter how much Hop wishes for Leon’s comfort, the past is the past – he can’t neglect his brother’s needs when he’s here  _ moping _ over Raihan. As if he’s blind to Hop’s frustration, Leon wipes blood from the corner of his mouth with a sigh.

“Raihan doesn’t deserve to know a single thing,” Hop states. 

“About what?”

_ Ugh, are you kidding? _

Speak of the devil – literally, that man was a demonic force, draining Leon’s life like the parasite he was. If it wasn’t for Leon’s fondness of the man, Hop would have socked him ages ago. Raihan  _ this, _ Raihan  _ that _ – Leon always fretted over Raihan like an imprinted chick. But Leon’s features grow nervous and Hop has to make up some excuse to preserve his brother’s pride.

“The alcohol was a bit much for him,” Hop lies, glaring at Raihan’s intrusion. “Why do you care, anyway?”

_ It’s not as if you cared enough to drop that woman while Lee’s back here suffering, you dick. _

“Hey, it’s normal for me to be concerned!” Raihan says defensively, holding up his hands while Hop drags Leon out of the bathroom stall. His brother feigns drunken sickness – thank Arceus – and he uses Hop’s shoulders to stop himself from falling face-first onto the floor.

Hop almost worries that Leon is experiencing hypoxemia. His brother gives him a slight squeeze as if he’s saying everything is okay.

He sighs, relieved.

Well, as relieved as he can be with his brother’s life fading in his arms.

_ Fuck you, Raihan, _ Hop wants to scream in his face.  _ If only you cared half as much as Lee does – maybe he’d be okay. _

Raihan may not know about Leon’s condition, but Raihan is simultaneously the cause of Leon’s chronic disease. And surely, if he wasn’t so  _ dumb and straight, _ Leon would be able to confide in Raihan just a little bit more.

But his brother can’t do anything, and Hop just has to sit back and watch while his brother’s light flickers like a candle in the midst of a typhoon.

What if Leon –

_ No, he’ll get the surgery, _ Hop cuts himself off.  _ He wouldn’t just leave you like that. _

The nagging question lies in the back of his mind unanswered: why hasn’t he scheduled a doctor’s appointment?

He’s not sure if he wants to hear the answer, so he turns back and pretends that everything will be just fine.

* * *

Victor notices.

Of course, he’s Hop’s  _ best friend, rival, and partner _ – but the facts don’t make it any less shocking when Victor confronts him about it.

“You’ve been hiding things recently,” Victor points out one night. They’re just outside of Motostoke, camping together like old times. Huddled near the campfire, the two of them turn marshmallows until they’re golden brown and goopy in the middle. Victor’s statement is distracting enough to make him forget where he is for a moment.

“What do you mean?” Hop fibs, pulling his stick out of the fire. He lobs his most recent marshmallow in-between two slabs of graham cracker and a piece of chocolate, squishing it until it ruptures gelatin goodness. The sandwich components adhere together.

“You can’t hide from me, Hop,” Victor sighs. “What’s going on between Leon and Raihan, and why is it bothering you so much?”

“It  _ doesn’t _ bother me,” Hop insists.

Victor frowns. 

“Okay, maybe it’s bothering me a little,” Hop admits, taking a bite of the sweet goodness. So what if it bothers him? It’s not his issue to complain about,  _ it’s Leon’s illness, _ for fuck’s sake! And Hop isn’t going to go crying about something that doesn’t concern him at all.

Before he can realize it, the tears are streaming down his cheeks and Victor’s arms are wrapped around him in a heated embrace.

“Things may not be good now,” Victor whispers, “but that doesn’t mean they can’t get better. I’ll be here to help you through everything, Hop. So please, talk to me.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Hop sobs involuntarily. “But I think Lee isn’t seeing a doctor about it. His symptoms are progressing – at an alarming rate.”

He sounds like one of those stupid scientists, but he can’t help it with Sonia’s influence looming over him.

“Is he going to get the surgery?” Victor asks. His brown eyes are filled with apprehension – they both know the answer already, but voicing it is a different story.

“I don’t think so,” Hop says. If this was any other time – a time when Leon wasn’t sick, a time when all of his energy could be focused on Victor – he would be hurling himself into Victor’s arms. 

But now, his heart sinks into his stomach while catching in his throat. Hanahaki is a paradox – how can a disease born from love exist? It’s impossible, and yet Leon is living proof that Hanahaki is  _ real  _ and  _ intriguing _ and  _ terrible. _

“I’m sorry, Hop,” Victor says. “I’m here if you need me.”

_ I always need you, _ his traitorous mind thinks.

“Thank you,” he says instead. “Could you just – hold me like this?”

Silence.

“Of course,” Victor’s shaky voice breaks through the tranquil campsite. “As much as you want.”

They untangle themselves after a good hour of tears and venting while the fire has turned to smoldering embers and silver snow. Victor kicks sand into the pit to put out what’s left of the flames while Hop sets their now-cold smores to the side. The quiet of the Wild Area is somehow ear-splitting – the only noise amongst the rustling wind is the occasional shuffle of Victor’s sleeping bag next to his.

Like this, they really are alone in the world.

Hop closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

He can’t.

Restless, Victor sits up in the middle of the night and scoots a little closer to Hop, stealing some of his warmth. 

“Are you cold?” Hop asks suddenly.

Victor jolts. 

“Uh – sorry, Hop,” he says, backing away. It’s the absolute opposite of what Hop desires right now, and he bristles with annoyance before he finds the right words.

“No,” Hop grunts, pulling Victor into a hug. “Don’t be sorry. I’m cold too, let’s stay together.”

“Okay,” Victor says. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” Hop snorts. “I got your hoodie all wet.”

“It’s fine,” Victor insists. “I don’t mind if it’s you.”

… 

If it’s him.

Huh.

Hop has never felt more in love at all the wrong moments.

* * *

“Peppermint mocha latte for Hop?” the barista calls from the counter. 

Hop stands up from their table to collect his drink, and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t really want to return. He can already sense the tension between Raihan and the young woman handing him his frappuccino, and he almost considers wooing her just to spite the man.

He doesn’t, because Victor is there.

And also because there’s no way he’d ever be seen as anything other than “the little brother” archetype in anyone’s eyes. It hardly ever worked with previous partners – they always ended up babying him and treating him like a doll. He hardly cares – or at least he  _ tries _ not to care. The looks of others are hard to ignore when he’s in the shadow of his genius older brother. There’s not a single soul in Galar who doesn’t know Leon – really, he’s a shining star; a beacon of light for those surrounding him.

Except Raihan won’t  _ fucking _ look at him.

The thought is bitter on his tongue, and he winces, washing it down with a sip of his sugary drink. He plops back down next to Victor, who looks at him curiously.

“What is that?”

“It’s good. Wanna taste?” he asks, holding the drink out to Victor.

While making eye contact, Victor leans over.

Victor takes a long, drawn-out sip, languidly licking at his lips when he withdraws.

Hop’s heart shatters, repairs itself, and explodes again, flipping between frozen reality and searing-hot fantasy. He asks himself if this is real at least ten times – malfunctioning while his crush  _ casually _ returns to the conversation. Luckily, no one notices his internal freak-out over a shared beverage. 

Hop wants to ask what came over Victor, but he doesn’t. Obviously, it hadn’t meant anything for Victor – but it meant something to  _ Hop. _ It was –

“A kiss,” Victor deadpans. “You’re going to fucking ask that barista for a kiss?”

“She’s hot,” Raihan shrugs. “Look at her – tanned skin, brown eyes, beautiful hair – that’s my type.”

Hop wants to reach over and strangle Raihan while Leon looks on with a strained smile, as if he’s trying to keep everything down.

“Sorry, love,” Raihan pats Leon on the back. “I know we came here to chat, but I’ve gotta get her number.”

_ Love. _

Leon’s lips curve down into a confused frown when Raihan pushes his chair away.

_ That fucking jerk. _

Hop feels anger surge through him when Leon’s called up to get the coffee, forced to witness Raihan’s advances on the poor barista. At first, it’s just a mild throat clearing when he steps up to collect his drink. 

And then, Leon goes down sputtering.

Hop’s chair clatters to the floor and he’s at Leon’s side in a matter of milliseconds, rubbing his back as Leon clutches at his throat. The iced coffee splatters on the floor as Hop screams. Victor calls an ambulance almost immediately as Leon turns to him, mouth wide.

For the first time in his life, Hop truly feels despair.

There are flowers growing along the walls of Leon's esophagus.

He reaches into his brother’s mouth, trying to tear them out, but Leon gags, pushing his fingers out. He spits leaves and seeds onto the floor as the spectators around them begin to panic. Raihan rushes to Leon’s side, asking if he’s okay. He feels hatred flare up inside him – Raihan is the cause of Leon’s pain. Hop shoves him away.

It’s then he realizes that his hand is covered in Leon’s blood.

* * *

“I won’t get it removed,” Leon hisses through spiny stems that crawl up his throat.

The beep of the heart rate monitor is constant, reminding Hop of Leon’s imminent death. Of course, he wasn’t expecting Leon to just  _ agree _ to the surgery, but even after constant doctor recommendations and visits from concerned friends, Leon still refuses. 

It’s terrifying.

“Why not?” Hop asks. There’s a clip attached to Leon’s left hand – for measuring Leon’s oxygen saturation level, he remembers. 

It only reminds him that Leon’s condition is deteriorating.

“I can’t forget him, Hop,” Leon says. “I can’t imagine life without him.”

“You’ll die,” Hop says. 

He can’t blink or the tears will flow, so he holds his breath, trying not to make any sharp movements. It hurts – it’s too soon, Leon can’t just up and leave him like this.

“You’re being selfish,” he says. “Why don’t you just tell him?”

“And ruin our friendship?” Leon chuckles once before coughing. “I already know he doesn’t love me.”

“Why would you think that?” Hop huffs. “Have you ever asked him?”

“He’s straight, Hop,” Leon says.

“And how would you know that?” Hop retorts, even though he knows Leon has a point.

“Every time we go out in public, he flirts with girls,” Leon says, a pained smile on his face.

“Then just get the surgery,” Hop says, grasping Leon’s hand. “Lee – you have so much to live for. If he doesn’t love you now, he won’t love you more when you’re dead.”

“I don’t – want to stop loving him,” Leon responds. “He’s my – first love.”

“First loves are overrated,” Hop snaps. “Lee, you may not be Galar’s champion anymore, but you’re still important to me – to everyone. I’m sure Raihan would understand if you got the surgery – you’d just have to build your friendship back from the beginning.”

“I can’t be friends with him if I get the surgery,” Leon says. “I’d – relapse. There’s no point.”

“So you’re just going to  _ die _ like this?” Hop yells. “And leave Mom and I all alone again, like you did when you became champion?”

Leon stares at him in shock, but he can’t stop his feelings from overflowing.

“You’re choosing Raihan – choosing  _ death _ over us?” Hop screams. 

His brother gives him a broken look.

“I thought I knew you, Lee,” Hop breathes. “But the Lee I know wouldn’t make such a foolish decision.”

“It’s not foolish,” Leon argues. “I can’t – imagine life without Raihan. It’s not worth living if he isn’t by my side.”

“You have us,” Hop retorts. “And you don’t even know whether or not he likes you! You never even bothered to ask him!”

Guilt seeps into Leon’s features, and he starts choking again.

* * *

“Only hospital staff are allowed to see Leon now,” Hop tells Victor as the other boy hands him an ice cream cone. Mint chocolate chip has always been their favorite flavor – both Victor and Hop adore the delightful crunch in between the delectable cool burn of the minty dairy product.

“Will he be alright?” Victor asks hesitantly. 

“I don’t know,” Hop says.

He really doesn’t know if Leon will be okay – and it scares him. The idea of Leon’s absence is impossible in so many different ways, and it terrifies him to no end.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Victor asks as they walk through Wyndon’s epicenter – a nature-adorned park that fills Galarian residents with glee.

“Actually, yes,” Hop finds himself saying. “Should we sit down?”

Victor leads them to a pathetic bench on the sidelines. 

“I’m just worried,” Hop says. “I feel like Lee’s already accepted death, and it scares me.”

His ice cream is melting onto his hand, so he nibbles at the sweet treat, hastily devouring it.

“What did he say?” Victor asks, one arm already wrapped around Hop’s shoulder in comfort.

His crush’s touch makes him light up even in the distinctly saddening atmosphere, but he swallows the burning emotion and continues on.

“He said he’d rather die than live without Raihan,” Hop sighs, resting in Victor’s embrace. 

God, he could already feel the tears welling up against his will. 

“It’s okay to cry, Hop,” Victor says. “I won’t judge you.”

The subtlety of his misery shatters when he bawls out into Victor’s shirt, his beaten and bruised heart hammering against his best friend’s chest. Hop lays at the bottom of an endless abyss, where only draconic creatures remain, hydra-headed and violently swinging at the places where it hurts most. Anger like poison sinks into him, bursting into his meridians and clogging whatever spiritual sanctuary he had up.

“It hurts,” he wails.  _ It hurts. _

_ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

The words reverberate inside his mind, bouncing against the walls of his sanity. It’s horrendous timing, but he doesn’t care – it’s not like he’s voicing his feelings outwardly.

He knows how Leon feels. If it had been Hop who had the illness, he couldn’t have confessed to Victor – he would have just laid down and died.

The thought isn’t soothing in the slightest.

“It’s okay, I’m here for you if it helps,” Victor says quietly, rubbing circles into his back. 

Hop wants to stay in Victor’s arms. He could forget his regrets any day if his crush comforted him whenever he was down.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Anything for you,” Victor responds.

The statement makes his heart flutter while his intestines wrench in anxiety for Leon.

And then his phone rings.

* * *

Leon’s funeral is a small arrangement – just Hop, his mother, Victor, and the gym leaders.

He protested Raihan’s presence multiple times, but he can’t just leave  _ Leon’s one and only true love _ out of the procession. So he relents, but only because Victor is his Achilles heel – he can’t resist his crush’s incessant persuasion.

However, he’s  _ not _ expecting Raihan to go out of his way to  _ misinform the masses _ a few days before the ceremony.

It pisses him off! Seriously, does Raihan care more about his public image than the  _ fucking truth?! _ Leon died because he fell in love with Raihan, and the idiot never even  _ gave him a second glance. _ The gym leader has the nerve to  _ lie _ and say Leon perished from pneumonia – which is the worst bullshit Hop’s ever heard. Leon,  _ his Lee, _ is a young, healthy man in his late twenties.

Leon  _ was _ a young, healthy man in his late twenties.

He’s gone now.

Hop still hasn’t come to terms with Leon’s death. 

Not fully, at least – things are difficult for his unemployed mother without Leon’s income, sure, but that’s not the worst of things.

Hop returns home to a crowd of news reporters who push him for details. Obviously, they think Leon suffocated because of fluid collecting in his lungs – and they’re wrong, but Hop doesn’t have the time nor the energy to correct them. He wades through the cameras and the microphones pointed at his face. They’re more annoying than anything else, really – and Hop isn’t obligated to answer any of their questions.

“Sorry, but I would like to mourn my brother in peace,” Hop says.

The words sting in his chest. 

Surprisingly, the reporters seem to understand him – they don’t want to sensationalize Leon’s death. It’s only after they don’t return the following day that Hop realizes that they just want answers that he can’t give them.

_ Why was Leon’s death so sudden? _

Tears stream down Raihan’s face as he hardly finishes his speech for Leon.  _ They’re probably fake, _ Hop’s mind supplies for him. But it doesn’t change how the audience reacts – Sonia and Nessa support him as he walks off the stage, letting him sob mindlessly as they lead him back to his seat.

White anger pools in Hop’s blood vessels, bursting through his veins.

And then it’s his turn to speak.

The gladiolus flowers staring back at him should be torn apart.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” he says. Those words are just the start of his sadness – he can’t control the cries that come from his chest or the scratching in his throat. Hop’s afraid for a second that he has the same thing Leon does, and that’s when he says it out loud.

“Leon died from Hanahaki disease – caused by unrequited love.”

The room goes quiet, and Raihan’s face twists in horror and – sorrow?

Oh Arceus, he didn’t  _ know. _

“What?” Raihan asks. 

Hop watches Raihan’s world come crashing down around him. With a shattered look in his eyes, he gasps for air once and collapses to his knees.

_ He really didn’t know. _

“You didn’t –”

Hop can’t finish his sentence because Raihan  _ screams. _

It’s the worst noise he’s heard in his life. Worse than the coughing, worse than the vomiting and the hacking, worse than the sound of Leon’s lifeline going flat with a loud beep. It’s as if Raihan’s entire lower body is being torn off while he’s still alive – as if Raihan has been sent into purgatory for his sins. 

Hop has never heard someone express so much pain.

“Who was it for?” Raihan demands, pointing at Hop.

He scrambles to his feet, grief-crazed and unhinged. Raihan’s nails are scratching at his throat when the other man grips his collar, shaking Hop back and forth.

“Answer me!” he roars. “I need to know!”

Hop’s eyes trail toward Victor for help. He can’t just tell Raihan that it’s  _ him _ when he’s like this – he’d hurt someone – hurt himself. Even if he’s not particularly fond of Leon’s crush, Raihan is still human – still important to Leon.

But Raihan takes it the wrong way and lunges toward Victor in a fit of rage.

Not even Milo can restrain Raihan when he’s emotionally charged – but Allister steps in between Raihan and Victor shakily, begging him to stop. The poor youngster is shaking at the loss of one of his role models – and to see another act like this is borderline traumatizing.

“It’s not me,” Victor insists.

“Who else could it be?” Raihan laughs sorely. “What makes you so  _ special, _ champ? Leon himself endorsed you – he probably liked you back then, too.”

And that’s when Hop realizes  _ Raihan is jealous of Victor. _

“Stop it,” Hop screams. “It’s not Vic, don’t  _ touch him.” _

He rushes forward so he can be at Victor’s side before Bea grabs his wrist, jerking him back. Raihan ignores both Victor’s and Hop’s protests, shouting nonsense at both of them. Piers knocks him out with a jab to a pressure point and Milo drags him away as he thrashes.

This is not how the funeral was supposed to go.

Hop approaches Victor cautiously, unsure of how to apologize for – almost getting him assaulted? – for whatever happened in the past few minutes. Victor beams up at him like everything is fine.

Hop’s heart constricts, but he smiles back, placing a hand on Victor’s face.

“Are you alright?” he asks nervously, checking for any potential wounds. There aren’t any, and he pulls back, relieved.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken,” Victor admits. 

“Hope you feel better,” Hop says, sitting next to Victor. “This was – not what I expected to happen today.”

“I know,” Victor says. “Are you – okay?”

“Physically? Yes,” Hop says, shrugging. “On the other hand, I think I broke Raihan, so I feel kinda crappy. And I almost got you hurt, so I feel bad about that too.”

“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Victor laughs. “Almost hurt is unscathed.”

He’s right, but it doesn’t make it any less unsettling.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Hop says, brushing Victor’s bangs behind his ear.

Victor flinches, holding back a cough, but he manages to grin at Hop after his fit is over.

“How do you feel right now?” Victor asks. “Should we head home early?”

Hop ponders for a second.

Leon is gone.

The thought unsettles him, but he’s not  _ miserable _ – it’s difficult to feel anything, actually. Inside, his heart still beats, and his lungs still function, and his tissues are getting enough blood, so he’s  _ technically _ fine? He’s tried suppressing the mental image of Leon unmoving in the hospital bed – but it’s impossible. The scene has appeared so many times in Hop’s dreams that he’s grown numb to it.

“I’m tired,” he says, settling for a neutral statement. He doesn’t really want to talk about Leon right now. He wants to go home and nap – and maybe think about happier things that will distract him.

“You can sleep if you’d like,” Victor offers. “Or we could go home. Which one do you want?”

He doesn’t want to face Leon’s empty room – the one that he can stare at from across the hallway.

“Can I stay at your place?” Hop asks.

“Sure,” Victor says. “Anything for you.”

* * *

It’s fine.

Everything is fine.

At least, that’s what Hop wants to believe, even though Victor won’t stop coughing and Raihan won’t stop texting him.

One can be ignored, but there’s no way in hell he  _ won’t _ take time off of work just to care for Victor.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hop asks him, checking Victor’s temperature with a hand pressed to his forehead. 

“I think I’m coming down with a cold,” he says, leaning back. “My throat feels kinda scratchy, though.”

“I can make you a cup of tea,” Hop says, standing up suddenly.

“I don’t have anything to make tea with,” Victor says, shaking his head.

“I have ginger tea packets in my bag,” Hop says. “It made Lee feel better.”

Victor looks guilty, but he lets Hop brew him some tea. 

Hop heats up a mug of water in the microwave and steeps a teabag in the 70°C liquid. Procuring a kettle and filter paper out of thin air is impossible, but it still grates on his nerves that Victor doesn’t even have anything to make European tea with. He probably has his methods for creating matcha green tea, but since that’s made from powder, it’s not exactly the same as making herbal teas.

“Thank you,” Victor croaks, gratefully accepting the mug.

“We should head to sleep early,” Hop suggests. “If you still feel bad in the morning, I’ll be here for you.”

“Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be babying you?” Victor giggles softly, careful not to stir his cough back up.

“Mm, but you’re sick,” Hop says. Rolling his eyes, Victor climbs onto his lap and rests his head against Hop’s chest.

Huh.

When did he get so small?

It’s probably not Victor who’s gotten small, he reasons, but Hop who’s gotten taller. But that observation doesn’t change the fact that Victor rests his ear right above Hop’s heart, where he can hear the pounding inside his chest if he listens closely. 

“Now you’ll get sick too,” Victor jokes.

The empty mug is left forgotten on Victor’s nightstand as they chatter into the night. Victor’s hands have grown warm with Hop’s wrapped around them, gleaning energy from Hop’s well-regulated heating system. 

“I’m sleepy,” Victor says midway through  _ The Princess Bride. _ It’s probably their fortieth time watching it, but Victor  _ never _ gets tired of that movie, and if he likes it, who is Hop to complain? 

Hop wiggles his foot and feels the spike of pins-and-needles in his legs.

“Me too,” he sighs into Victor’s hair. 

_ He smells like Pecha Berry shampoo. _

“Let’s retire for the night,” Victor says, climbing into his bed. 

Hop is left to sleep on the soft futon – but he’s not complaining. The only thing – or rather, the only person – who would make Hop’s rest even better is Victor. Hop imagines Victor’s frail form pressed against his chest when he sleeps, cocooned together in a chrysalis of blankets.

* * *

In the middle of the night, he hears a panicked scream.

He’s not really sure who it’s from or what’s going on, but Victor’s hands are shaking at his shoulder, tearing him from the throngs of sleep. Hop rubs the exhaustion from his eyes and looks at the item crumpled inside Victor’s palms. It’s too blurry and dark to discern, so Hop makes a confused “mmh?” before Victor’s Charmander – a gift from Leon – lights up the room with its tail flame.

And then Hop sees them.

The blossoms scattered over the floor.

At this point, Victor is trembling, mumbling something that sounds like “I don’t wanna die” into Hop’s chest as he cries, getting blood all over his nightshirt.

_ Victor is in love with someone. _

The whisper trickles in at first, but then it overflows, crashing like a tsunami straight into Hop’s half-awake brain. He swallows down the jealousy and sits up, pulling Victor into a hug. Hop’s fingers are stiff as he pries open Victor’s hand to reveal one of the spiny plants. To cough such a prickly plant up must hurt a lot, he realizes, brushing over Victor’s wrist in comfort.

“Are you hurt?” he asks. “Did one get caught in your throat?”

Victor shakes his head no, but even movement makes Victor groan in pain. More flowers tumble out as he retches onto the hardwood floor.

This isn’t good.

“How long have you had this for? Why didn’t you tell me?” Hop asks.

“I didn’t know,” Victor whispers, tears pricking his eyes. “I’m scared.”

Hop hates this disease – Hop hates the person Victor loves.  _ They better love him back, _ he thinks, holding Victor close to his agitated heart. He knows now is not the time to voice his feelings – not when Victor is vulnerable and ill; when he’s confused and petrified and potentially dying. And probably in love with someone who’s not Hop.

It doesn’t mean he wants Victor any less – he just wants Victor to heal.

“Your flowers look dangerous,” Hop says quietly. Victor nods in agreement –  _ seriously,  _ Victor has to deal with  _ spiked flowers? _ Nothing Victor’s done in this life could have ever warranted such torture – he’s saved Galar, tamed an alien, and defeated capitalism!  _ He doesn’t deserve any of this, _ Hop thinks, combing through Victor’s hair.

“I don’t know what they are,” Victor says. “But I’ve seen them around.”

The plant is familiar, sure – but that’s not saying much. Neither are well-versed in botany, but Hop can think of one person who is.

“Is it okay if I take one to Sonia for identification?” Hop asks. “I want to see if there’s any way to stop it from hurting you more.”

_ I won’t let you turn out like Lee. _

Victor gives him a weak smile.

“I’m okay with that,” he says. “I don’t think I want to die any time soon, that’s for sure.”

“If it’s necessary, would you get the surgery?” Hop asks.

Victor’s smile falters.

“I don’t know if I could bear it, to be honest,” he says quietly. 

“I’ll be here to support you, no matter what,” Hop says.

Victor doesn’t look convinced, but he thanks Hop anyway.

* * *

“Okay, so you want me to do what now?”

A greenhouse in the corner is the only sign that Sonia has any interest in raising plants. Brimming with lush leaves and exotic plants, the unique collection bursts with color amongst the rest of the laboratory. A Vibrava wiggles on the examination table as Sonia gathers the novocaine and syringes.

“Tell me what these flowers are,” Hop says, holding up a sealed plastic bag.

“That’s easy,” his mentor says, not even sparing him a second glance. “Those are teasels. They’re native to most regions in the Eastern hemisphere, and when they were introduced to Unova and Alola, they spread quickly. It’s an invasive species, partially carnivorous, and it was used to treat arthritis a  _ long _ time ago. Are these Leon’s flowers?”

“No,” Hop says. “I was just wondering.”

“You never  _ just wonder  _ about things,” Sonia snorts, taking the bag from him. “And these teasels are coated in blood.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said they weren’t Lee’s,” Hop says quietly.

Sonia carefully examines his expression.

“Whose are they, then?”

“Victor’s,” Hop says.

Her mouth opens and closes in shock. She doesn’t know what to say. Hop can’t blame her.

“Well,” she says. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I was wondering if you knew a way to make things less painful for Victor,” Hop starts.

“I don’t. My knowledge of Hanahaki is limited, but I do know that the host’s flowers usually have symbolism tied to their important person.”

“Should I tell him that?”

“It could be helpful,” Sonia shrugs. “Does he know who it is?”

“Yeah,” Hop says.

The lab goes silent for a few moments while Hop fiddles with the Ziploc bag.

“You know, if you need more time off, I can give you it,” she says. “It must be hard to lose Leon, and I can’t even imagine how you feel about Victor.”

Knowing that Victor’s in love is hard, but he’s definitely more concerned about Victor’s life than about his own feelings. They can fester in his chest for all he cares – Victor needs to recover and move on before Hop can confess to him. It’s not fair for Victor to fall into a confess-or-die situation. Rejection means surgery or death for him, but he doesn’t really have a choice if he wants to live.

Some part of Hop wants Victor to get the surgery so he can woo Victor – but he doesn’t want to tear away parts of Victor’s memory. He wouldn’t wish amnesia on his worst enemy, and plus, Victor is the champion – he can’t go around forgetting whoever he wants willy-nilly. 

Hop won’t be selfish with someone who isn’t even his to begin with. Victor doesn’t belong to him – he belongs to himself and to no one else. 

Hop still wants Victor.

“Sonia, what should I do?” Hop asks. “I love him.”

“I know you do,” she says. “If Lee were here – he’d tell you to confess.”

“But Victor doesn’t love me,” Hop says. “If he loved me, then he wouldn’t have gotten Hanahaki in the first place.”

“Not necessarily. I’ll tell you more later,” Sonia says. “Now help me get this PCI done on this Vibrava. Its trainer will pick it up later.”

Hop moves to assist her as she inserts the catheter into the Vibrava’s heart, injecting a dye to color the plaque blockage in the Vibrava’s bloodstream. The process is over quickly and Vibrava lies on the table as Hop strokes it to calm it down. It takes about an hour for the local anesthetic to trickle out of the Pokemon’s system, and by then, Hop’s arm aches almost as much as his curiosity.

“Sonia, what did you mean earlier?” Hop asks as Vibrava dozes off.

“Hm? I just meant that he could still like you,” she suggests, dumping her latex gloves in the trash. “There are a lot of factors that cause Hanahaki. Obviously, you need to be in love with someone – but you also have to be unaware of their feelings.”

“Unaware?” Hop asks. “But I’m pretty sure Lee knew his crush’s feelings.”

Sonia sighs. 

“Hop, you’re an  _ idiot _ if you think Raihan doesn’t love Leon.”

What?

“But Raihan’s always flirting with girls,” Hop states, confused. 

It doesn’t make sense – Raihan has never shown any interest in Leon for as long as Hop’s known him. He’s only ever gone after random girls during public outings – he likes toying with people’s hearts. Raihan is a fuckboy through and through – he likes the way vape smoke feels in his lungs, he probably has an Onlyfans account, and he never stops taking selfies.

Sonia rolls her eyes.

“Bisexuality exists, Hop. Have you seen how much he’s mourning right now?”

If that’s the case, then – 

_ Leon’s death could have been prevented. _

Because Hop never told Raihan, Leon is dead.

He doesn’t hear the laboratory door swing open or the bell that accompanies the noise.

He doesn’t see Raihan walk in alongside his trainee, nor does he see the dark circles under Raihan’s eyes.

But he speaks evil, spurting wrath from every pore.

“I hate him,” Hop yells, piercing the air with his disdain. “It’s Raihan’s fault Lee is dead! Lee  _ loved _ him, and he  _ didn’t even care! _ It doesn’t matter if Raihan loved Lee back – it’s too late because now Lee is  _ gone _ and it’s  _ his fault!” _

Hop feels his chest heave as he sinks to his knees in an uncharacteristic thud.

“Leon… loved me,” he hears someone say from behind him.

He whips around.

Raihan stands dumbfounded behind him.

“Of course he did, Raihan,” Sonia says. “Who else would it be?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Raihan asks. His tone isn’t accusing – it’s desperate.

Everyone’s eyes are pointed at Hop – and he’s not sure how to respond.

“Lee made me promise not to,” Hop says. “I thought you knew he had Hanahaki – but he didn’t tell you.”

“I had no clue,” Raihan says. There’s a distant look in his hazy blue irises. “I wish I did.”

“I’m sorry,” Hop says.

He feels guilty for placing all the blame on Raihan when he should shoulder it too. After all, only he, his mother, and Victor knew – shouldn’t he also be at fault? The self-hatred drills into him, customarily knotting in his abdomen. It’s the same suffocation he felt when losing to Bede – losing to everyone. But this loss isn’t just Hop’s, it’s a shared loss – one of life, smattered by the unforgiving roots of love.

Raihan closes his eyes.

“You lost your brother. I should be the one pitying you,” he says, voice monotonous. There’s a crack in his hardened facade, however, and teardrops slide down his cheeks. 

“I loved him,” Hop says slowly, “but you loved him too.”

It’s the first time he sees Raihan cough up an all-too-familiar gladiolus blossom.

* * *

“So, what did Sonia say?” Victor asks the same night. He’s staying home for the next week – paid sick leave is really something.

“Your flowers are called teasels,” Hop says. “She also said that your flowers might have a meaning.”

“I’ll just look it up,” Victor says, shifting in his bed. Rotom floats over, letting Victor dance over the keyboard like a pianist.

“Any meaning?” Hop asks after a few minutes of silence.

Victor laughs dryly.

“Misandry, apparently,” he says. 

Misandry? Could someone possibly loathe Victor? Hop hardly even ponders the question. The answer is no: Victor is not only gorgeous, but he’s considerate, dreamy, and caring – he has bounds of courage that Hop can’t even imagine. Disliking humanity is one thing, but disliking  _ Victor  _ is impossible.

“Your crush sounds like a dick,” he says. “You should probably get that removed.”

“He is not,” Victor huffs. “He’s very nice, actually.”

_ He? _

“Who is it?” Hop asks. “I’ll help you scout them out. I can prod them a bit about their feelings – and if they like you, it’ll be easier to confess.”

“I can’t tell you,” Victor frowns.

“Vic, please,” Hop says. “I don’t want to lose you to this disease too. You’re important to me.”

Victor swallows a cough.

“You’re important to me too, Hop,” he whispers.

_ Arceus, _ Hop is in love.

“But it’s okay. If my flowers show hatred, then they probably don’t like me back,” Victor sighs.

“Those are your flowers,” Hop points out. “Plus, it could mean they’re upset at other things – like maybe their life is going to shit or something.”

“I know they don’t like me, so drop it,” Victor pouts, rolling onto his side.

“Will you tell them?” Hop asks.

“No,” Victor says. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“I’m sure it won’t ruin things,” Hop says. “Is it someone I know?”

Victor hesitates.

“Yes,” he says under his breath.

“Do you trust me?” Hop asks Victor, squeezing his hand. “I wouldn’t let this get out to anyone. You know that.”

Victor nods but doesn’t say a word.

“Listen, Vic, I care about you a lot,” Hop mumbles, “and it concerns me when you’re in pain like this.”

Victor stares at him with watery eyes.

“I’m scared,” he admits. “I’m not ready to confess yet.”

Hop pulls him into a hug. 

“It’ll be okay,” he insists, letting Victor cry into his shirt. 

The night goes on like that – Victor’s fingers clutching the fabric of Hop’s shirt, staining it red with the blood that Victor unearths with each cough. Hop feels a scratchiness in his throat whenever he sees Victor suffer – it almost feels like he’s the one who has Hanahaki. After a particularly long coughing fit, Victor falls asleep. Hop keeps checking his pulse – he’s afraid that the rise and fall of Victor’s chest will stop any minute. 

Sleepless dreams haunt his mind.

»»————- ✿ ————-««

The next day, Victor coughs up a bundle of teasel.

It almost gets caught in his throat, but after a strong slap on the back, Victor’s able to dislodge it, spitting out the comb-like biennial. The flower comes out with a large splat, its original purple tainted magenta with Victor’s tissues. He hisses in pain, calling Hop’s name – and his friend comes running with a flask filled with tea in hand.

Victor can’t thank Hop anymore, with the lining of his mouth so damaged it hurts to speak. Hop understands his pain – he’s dealt with Leon and now he’s dealing with Victor, careful not to press too hard on Victor’s chest when they hug. It doesn’t make Victor feel any better – Hop hates taking care of him. He doesn’t express his frustration, but Victor knows – the flowers tell him the truth.

Teasel represents hatred.

»»————- ✿ ————-««

Victor’s condition gets worse each day.

Sure, he’s actually seeking medical help, which is much better than Leon – but his flowers are ten times more life-threatening than Leon’s. The prescribed medicine keeps the blooms small and the pain dull, but Hop’s still worried for Victor – worried for every part of him that spatters and screeches whenever the needles prick his raw flesh.

Hop really, really wants Victor’s pain to end.

Victor rushes for Hop whenever he has to cough up another teasel – apparently holding hands helps ease the pain. Hop doesn’t mind – Victor likes to linger in his touch, fingers intertwined as Hop sits at the side of Victor’s bed. The trashcan has to be emptied every other day, and with Victor stuck in bed as he adjusts to the new medication, Hop pampers him endlessly.

It’s nice, actually – the domestic life with Victor.

Obviously, he can’t admit that out loud, but it’s still true – Hop loves Victor’s appreciative smile and sleepy eyes. He loves the sight of Victor cozied up amongst the sheets, only disturbed by the occasional cough. He loves the scent of Victor’s fabric softener and how it clings to his clothes when he leaves to buy Victor groceries.

He loves Victor.

Even if he loves someone else, Hop’s feelings remain the same. Hop hurts when he sees Victor hurt – he only wants Victor to stay safe, to feel loved, to be coddled.

He wants to give Victor the world.

But he can’t, because Victor is dying.

* * *

Victor needs help getting out of bed every day.

He’s grown weaker as the disease advances, but after four months of being bedridden, Victor makes the effort to at least train and visit the Wild Area. Hop doesn’t let him go alone – if he’s too sick to stand in the mornings, then how is he supposed to traverse a whole mile on his own?

So Hop carries him on his back. Wherever Victor wants to go, Hop will take him. He doesn’t know how long Victor has left to live with his memories intact, but Hop will make him feel safe in these next few months. Hop will show him whatever he wants to see – Hop illustrates paintings for Victor when he asks and sketches foreign Pokemon in the dirt. If Victor’s feeling better that day, he’ll laugh and mumble a few words. On most days, however, he expresses gratitude by signing “thank you.” 

Victor’s picked up a third language at this point – after Japanese, Victor knows English, and finally he knows sign language. It’s more for convenience than for anything else, since it hurts Victor’s throat to even breathe at this point. Hop “listens” and responds vocally. He’s never been coordinated with his hands, so he only learns the simpler gestures. Victor is satisfied, though – and Hop can’t ask for anything more.

* * *

The anniversary of Leon’s death comes quicker than he expects, and he’s still not over it.

It’s difficult to let go of someone he’s looked up to his whole life, but it hurts tenfold when he realizes that Victor might just be gone soon, too.

It has been almost a year, after all.

Who does Victor love, and when will Hop confess?

Hop is too afraid to ask and too afraid to tell. Each time the moment feels right, his sticky feelings seal his lips together, hiding away the jumpiness in his chest. Victor sustains his appearance on supplements and vitamins, making sure that he gets the right dosage to stay moderately healthy. Obviously, exercise is out of the question, so Victor’s foregone sweets and heavily refined carbohydrates, sticking to a high-protein diet. He’s lost a bit of weight in a year, but it’s mostly muscle that atrophies away, weakening Victor substantially.

It’s difficult for Victor to do anything but lay down and breathe as Hop rubs circles into his knuckles as if it’ll ease the pain. The champion looks frail and his bones appear brittle, and even speaking is impossible without incurring deep pain. Thankfully, Galar has given mercy to them – Victor does most of his paperwork from home and Hop works four days during the week, typically taking off on Friday. Thankfully, Sonia lets Victor rest in the guest area – she knows how much Hop worries about him and how much he’s hurting.

Victor scrawls on a notepad, passing it over to Hop.

_ “Do you miss him?” _

“Every day,” Hop says. “There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think about Lee. But I guess I miss a lot of things.”

_ “Like what?” _

Like Victor’s quiet humming whenever they made curry together, or the sound of his laughter, or his lustrous eyes that once glowed brighter than the sun.

“I miss your voice,” Hop says before he can stop himself. “I never really thought about it before, but your voice was really beautiful.”

Victor looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Sorry, I know that’s out of your control,” Hop laughs nervously. “I’m just glad that you’re still alive, Vic.”

_ “What would you do if I was gone?” _

Hop scans over the words until he becomes dizzy.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on keeling over and dying all of a sudden,” Hop says. 

Victor shakes his head no.

Good.

Hop breathes a sigh of relief. If he dies now, Hop won’t get the chance to share his feelings. He hasn’t even  _ told _ Victor yet. 

Victor makes a confused face.

_ “What haven’t you told me?” _

Whoops. Hop has grown careless – he needs to stop voicing every thought.

“Ah, nothing of importance,” Hop lies with a laugh. “Forget I even mentioned it.”

* * *

They buried Leon in a grove where wisterias hang from above, purple petals gently brushing against the gravestone. He lies next to Hop’s grandmother – the one who perished long before his birth. The clearing is humble, lying within one of the Slumbering Weald’s shallower zones. Zamazenta rustles in his ball when he feels Hop approach Leon’s final resting place, as if he wants to comfort Hop.

“Lee,” Hop says. “I came here to ask you for some advice.”

No one is there – but Hop pretends Leon’s there.

He imagines Leon’s bright eyes and long hair, much like Hop’s own. 

_ “Look at you, Hop! I reckon you’ve grown...exactly an inch and a quarter since the last time I saw you! Now, what do you wanna talk about?" _

“If I’m in love with Victor, should I tell him?” Hop asks. “Even if he’s hurting the same way you did?”

He can’t imagine Leon’s response, so he sits in front of the stone, waiting for a sign.

There’s no response.

“I love him,” Hop says to Leon’s ghost. “I love Victor, but he’s dying and I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell him,” Leon says.

_ What? _

That doesn’t sound like Leon.

“Who’s there?” Hop asks.

“Me,” the voice replies from behind him. Hop turns around, face-to-face with an exhausted Raihan, a bouquet of gladiolus and forget-me-nots in his hand. “Sorry if I interrupted you.”

“It’s fine,” Hop says, trying  _ not _ to murder Raihan in the middle of the graveyard. “Why do you think I should tell him, and why should I listen to you?”

“Don’t make the same mistake I did,” Raihan huffs. “Even if I didn’t think Leon was dying because of Hanahaki, I should’ve said it when I knew he was gonna die. I still regret it to this day.”

“I can’t just  _ tell  _ him all of a sudden. He has other things to deal with.”

“Yes, you can,” Raihan says. “Even if you have poor timing, at least he knows how you feel before he dies, right? It’s better than not saying anything at all.”

For once, Hop feels the resentment pointed toward Raihan subside, falling to the floor like snowflakes from on high.

When was the last time he told Leon he loved him?

Their last conversation was a fight where Hop tried to convince him to tell Raihan his feelings. Before that, Hop did little else than care for him – bringing him tea whenever his throat ached, lending him a shoulder to cry on, and urging him to get the surgery.

Did Leon know that Hop loved him, too?

Sure, maybe it wasn’t romantic love – but Leon is Hop’s older brother, whether he’s gone or alive.

“You’re right,” Hop says solemnly. “I’m sorry. I’ll take my leave so you can be alone with Lee.”

Against Raihan’s baffled protests, Hop runs out of the grove and back to Victor’s house, holding his love close to his chest.

* * *

Victor snuggles up against Hop’s chest with a bowl of popcorn in his lap as they watch  _ The Princess Bride _ again. They’re bundled up in blankets made from Wooloo wool, sharing warmth as they rest against Victor’s large couch. Hop loves how Victor’s hair still smells like Pecha Berry shampoo. He loves Victor’s occasional soft giggle and how he plays with Hop’s fingers whenever their Netflix buffers due to the bad connection.

Hop loves Victor.

The flowers don’t change his feelings at all, actually – they’ve only made him realize just how  _ much _ he loves Victor, how much he wants Victor’s voice to return, how much he wants to see Victor able to stand on his own again. When Victor is sapped of his independence, things feel off. Victor has always done things on his own, always braved the storm on his own, never backed down even in the face of death.

And yet this disease is killing him. 

Hop only realizes that he’s squeezing Victor too tight when the other man pokes his cheek, wheezing a little when he releases.

“Sorry, Vic,” Hop says. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Victor picks up the notepad laying to the side.

_ “What’s on your mind?” _

“You,” he says.

Arceus, where is his filter?

Victor’s cheeks flush a deep red and he pinches Hop’s cheek with a pout.

_ “Don’t joke around like that,”  _ Victor writes.

“It’s not a joke,” Hop grunts.

Well, he’s gone too far to turn back now.

Victor looks at him with an injured and confused expression splayed across his features, and Hop finds it hard to breathe.

“Sorry, this is shitty timing,” Hop sighs, looking back to the screen. “We can talk about it after the movie if you want.”

Victor turns the TV off, tugging at Hop’s sleeve. 

“Now,” he rasps, cringing when he hears himself.

_ There really is no getting out of this, is there? _

“I, uh,” Hop starts. “I don’t know if you’ll still want me to take care of you if I say it.”

Victor narrows his eyes.

“Say it,” he hisses, swallowing hard.

“I’m in love with you.”

The words tumble out of his mouth, stagnating in the air as they’re finally spoken.

Victor looks like he’s about to cry.

_ Does he feel guilty because he doesn’t feel the same way? _

“Sorry,” Hop says. He can feel his own tears welling up. 

And then, with the clarity of a summer day, Victor smiles.

“I’m in love with you too.”

Hop feels his heart freeze up when Victor turns around, knocking the popcorn onto the floor.

With glazed-over eyes, Victor kisses him, running his hands through Hop’s hair. Hop kisses back instinctively – this is a dream, he thinks, mulling over Victor’s long eyelashes and the taste of iron on his lips.

But it’s not.

Victor pulls away and hurls, coughing teasel after teasel onto the ground. They fall and create unique blood spatter patterns, making the floor look like a murder scene. Tears stream down Victor’s face as he forces the spined plants out, saliva and blood mixing on his chin. He spits out at least twenty different plants along with their roots, letting them smatter the floor with red.

And then it’s over.

Hop wipes the sweat from Victor’s forehead and the drool from his mouth, checking to make sure he’s okay.

“I love you,” Victor says quietly, just loud enough for Hop to hear. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Hop mutters as Victor collapses into his arms. “It’s my fault that you were like this.”

“You didn’t know,” Victor whispers, pulling Hop’s hand into his own. “I can finally breathe now.”

Together they cry.

**Author's Note:**

> if you like angst and hopvic you may like my other works, [vantage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22699687) and [axiom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22876900)
> 
> i'm [nashijang](https://twitter.com/nashijang) on twitter
> 
> haha heathers reference :)


End file.
